CHAP. IIL. ] A Nesting Fecursion. 67 
bright turquois blue to the deepest green, and the darker 
shades of copper and gold. Edward was on a nesting ex- 
cursion, with some little fellows like himself, along the 
braes of the Don, and at some distance above the Auld 
Brig, when he first saw this lustrous bird. ‘“I was greatly 
taken,” he says, “with its extraordinary beauty, and much 
excited by seeing it dive into the stream. I thought it 
would drown itself, and that its feathers would eventually 
become so clogged with water that it would not be able to 
fly. Had this happened—which, of course, it did not—my 
intention was to have plunged in to the rescue, when, as 
a matter of course, I would have claimed the prize as my 
reward. Thus buoyed up, I wandered up and down the 
river after the bird until the shades of even came down and 
forced me to give up the pursuit; and I then discovered, 
having continued the chase so long, that I was companion- 
less, and had to return home alone. 
“Jt so happened that for a month or two during sum- 
mer-time, owing to the scarcity of water, one part of the 
factory worked during the night-time and the other during 
the day-time, week and week about. This was a glorious 
time for me. I rejoiced particularly in the night work, 
We got out at six in the morning, and, instead of going 
directly home, I used to go up to the woods of Scotston 
and Scotston Moor, scour the country round them, and 
then return home by the Auld Brig. Another day I 
would go up to Buxburn, range the woods and places about 
them, and then home by Hilton or Woodside. Or, again, 
after having crossed Grandholm Bridge, instead of going 
up by Laurie Hillock, I went away down Don side, by 
Tillydrone, the Aulten (old Aberdeen), through the fields 
to the Aulten Links, whipped the whins there, then over 
the Broad Hill, and home by Constitution Street. I would . 
reach it, perhaps, about dinner-time, instead of at seven in 
the morning, although I had to be back at the mill again 
by eight o’clock at night. 
